blowing through the cobwebs of my mind

Socks has a (large) Raspberry!

Howdy! Oirish Tirsday was back on Thursday again, so another marathon phone call took place.

After we got my job-interview sagas out of the way, I asked how Halloween went at her place, as this is the first one she’s had there. She was tired, but manned the door for the eve.

Best Costume was won by a dad who was dressed as Bob Ross. Ya gotta love a man who picks Ross as a costume! She’d love to know, are they artists? Or was he just a quick thinker with an Afro and a palette sitting around?

Second prize went to a small boy dressed as Mario of SuperMario fame. She offered him the candy bowl and his response, said in the manner of Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, was: “Oh. Skittles. I have not seen those for a very long time.” Poor little geek-kid. You just know he’s not going to grow out of that voice.

We also talked about how neither of us ever did a trick to anyone. Except, she said, once on her birthday she and her friends toilet-papered a house. But that doesn’t really count, because her dad drove the getaway car, and bought the TP for them to use.

So, on to the baby-growing update! She’s still in fruit stages of development, and this week BabySocks is a large raspberry. I can’t help wonder what the book is going to say when she is further along…will they be brave enough to say cantaloupe? Watermelon? Don’t tell me, Socks, I love the giggle every week when you tell me the new fruit.

Raspberry now has a head bigger than the body and looks less like a lizard. It is growing hands, knees, elbows, lips, nose, and eyelids. There’s some twitching movement, too, but nothing she can feel.

Speaking of feel, the container BabySocks is growing in is now the size of a grapefruit, but she can’t feel any bump or lump yet. Seems like you would, doesn’t it? I asked if she is in the habit of sleeping face-down, because that would probably have to change. But she doesn’t, so sleeping will still be comfy.

Socks is still nauseated, and/or has a sour stomach. Food is becoming an annoyance – not a big deal, but eating has to be thought out in advance. Things that sound really, really, good turn out to be ‘meh’ when on the plate; the happiness of mealtime is a bit lacking. Even her home-cooked mac n cheese was “Not as awesome as it sounded on paper.”

She’s still tired, too, and can see a difference when she doesn’t get enough iron in a day. Zzzzz. Bear took her on a drive through the country to look at the autumn leaves, and she slept through them all. She was hungry, out of snacks and feeling ill from lack of food. But the restaurant he had planned on stopping at was closed. She said she felt terrible that she was spoiling the day by feeling sick and sleepy and didn’t want to tell him. As usual, more worried about others than herself.

All in all, not too bad, really! When she told Bear that she felt pretty good, and was surprised given her family’s pukey history, he leaned back, hooked his thumbs in his belt, and said, “I’m a cattleman. I can pick out a good breeder.”

Thanks for staying to read a bit, Rumpy! I have a dog as well as cats.

I’m thinking I should put a little explanation of why I’m talking about a friend’s pregnancy at the start of every post about her. They are a great couple together, he’s in no danger! I’m not even 1/8 as nice a person as she is 🙂

When you’ve known your hubby since the 1st grade he’ll never be in any danger of the skillet. He’s just too darn cute. I can look at him and with my most grumpy face say “I hate you” and he’ll just smile and come over and squeeze me till I can’t breathe and whisper in his sweetest “there there” voice “I hate you too”. I just know our kid’s gonna roll it’s eyes and tell us to get a room.